Hasır/3
}} 3'lü iki beyitin tablo sunumu ---- | style="vertical-align: top"| THE MAT Recently I wanted to go to our old familiar who is sold spiece with small navigation around upland He has always invited met o his shop Customers come after a little conversation Give me ten worth from there ginger nigella pepper Isn’t rany debt fifteen with this five? The wisdom is dimmed, ı don’t get Don’t extend, do my job Son be quick. Give my some tiryak. It must be blessed? Our child, blast him, was erysipelas Really? His little face suvelled as a Hütdağı What a pity He recovers! Get him blessed Does he recover? I hope Make a package but the one bought this morning was all powder Oh ! the powder which we always smoke . old tobacco has gone bad Give me gum . cut some wax , too My girl it would be with the Money. Look! Everyone pays in cash All of five and ten bucks approached the hole and perched in a locked drower from there Someone else come then Do you have a wide mat? Whatever value is It’s to hold a funeral don’t grint That sick woman lying for five months in our neighbour hood passed away tihs morning What remedy ! her faith is to die at such a day There’s no one with her . oh! Leave anyway When that comes no matter anyone is there or not This mat is nine cents but you give me eight now let’s not bargain for a cent The mat was twisted sholdered entered into a street Who knows where was it put then İt was opened to hide a dead in it’s bosom then closed again By being loaded on the shoulders of a few poor,Who doesn’t like this work without disturbing the peace quietly and calmly go away from her slot When it passed walls of the city thousand stiff arm reached out to stop the lonely passenger from the world of the cypresses The mat went down from shoulder because there was no way any more At the end leaned agains the grave with the help of grave digger’s shovel faced numb hand With the attack of world’s one after another trouble The poor woman whose life is a heap of sadness She landed into the hole with the mat on her shoulder the meaning of her soul ended forever when a grief began in my heart by the scenes come to my mind ı did not want to sit, I standed up immediately a curse to realm on my face, enthusiasm to death inside. The iner face of the world in my eyes: Pile of persecution. I left the gloomy place where ı had been Has the scene ended? Sorry! I did not even step So her soul would not be a disaster ruin Oh God! What is that life called a rev of torment | örnek osmanlıca مقدمة |} Kategori:Hasır Kategori:Safahat/I. Kitap Kategori:Mehmet Akif Ersoy